Polly of Lady Gay Cottage Part 14

Ilga turned quickly.

"I'm going home," she said.

"Oh, please don't!" cried Polly, adding faintly, "Are you ill?"

"No; but I guess I'd better go. There's such a rabble here."

"Why, Ilga!" gasped Polly.

"Well, 'tis!" she retorted. "If mamma'd known it, she wouldn't have let me come; she's very particular who I play with."

"They're just as nice as they can be," protested Polly in a soft, grieved voice.

"Perhaps they seem so to you. I s'pose that's the kind they have at hospitals. The little Pole over there, he squeezed my fingers so they 'most ache yet, and that tall Irish kid with the red hair is the worst of the bunch!"

"Oh, Ilga, he's a splendid boy, and so brave! I'm sure Otto didn't mean to hurt you; he is kind as can be."

"It's all right, if you want them; but I guess I'll go home. I thought there'd be something besides just games."

She turned towards the staircase, yet lingered.

"I'm sorry you don't like it," Polly replied simply. "I'll play anything you wish."

"No, I'm going."

She tossed her head, and took a step upward.

Polly was in terror lest somebody should overhear, for Ilga's voice was sharp with excitement.

"I'll stay and play with the school boys and girls," the dissatisfied guest yielded.

"But I can't separate them," Polly protested in dismay.

"Then I'll go home," Ilga decided, and went slowly up the stairs.

Polly followed sadly, but presently returned, having given over to her mother the care of the Senator's daughter.

Leonora ran to meet her. "What is the matter?" she whispered.

"I know!" spoke up Cornelius. "She don't like the crowd. I had to hear what she said about me. Say, Polly, I'll get out, if that'll make her stay."

"You shan't!" Polly's eyes flashed. Then they brimmed with tears. "I want you, Cornelius--I want you all! I wouldn't have you go for anything! Come, let's play--what shall we play? You choose, Cornelius!"

The game was moving pleasantly along when the Barron coach stopped at the door. For a few minutes the interest of the players flagged; then, having seen Ilga whirled out of sight, a festive spirit fell upon all, and the play went on more merrily than before.

Game followed game, and mirth was high, when Elsie Meyer, out for a forfeit, suddenly cried:--

"Oh, me! oh, my! the fairies have come!"

This was enough to halt the others, and the glimpse of a white-and-gold automobile drew the little crowd to the front windows.

Wonder and delight were on the children's faces, as they watched the motorists alight. The dapper man and the slight little woman were given small attention, for in the car were two of the tiniest, dearest midgets that anybody had ever seen. As soon as it was known that they were actually coming into the house, the excitement was great.

"Do you s'pose they're real fairies?" questioned Brida McCarthy eagerly.

n.o.body could answer. In fact, just at the moment, words were scarce.

Interest was centred on the visitors that were coming up the front steps. The glimpses of the beautiful little creatures as they pa.s.sed the curtained doorway increased the children's curiosity, and, during the brief time devoted to the removal of wraps, tongues ran lively.

The wild surmises came to a sudden halt when the tiny boy and girl appeared bowing and curtsying, being presented to the company as "Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Lucio and Princess Chiara."

The brother and sister at once proceeded to give a unique performance in song, dance, and pantomime, until the young guests were beside themselves with delight.

After this entertainment came the wonderful party tea, arranged and served in Mrs. Jocelyn's happiest style, with eleven little candle-girls atop of the birthday cake, and ice cream in the form of fairies.

When everybody was stuffed with good things, the dainty Prince and Princess remained for an hour to play with the other children, "just like real folks," as Elsie Meyer declared.

The last game of hide-and-seek came to a merry end, with the finding of the roguish little Princess, who was only eighteen inches tall, curled up snugly back of a small flower pot, inside of a jardiniere.

Then the girls and boys bade good-bye to their royal companions, and the guests were all sent home in the beautiful Jocelyn carriage. The stately grays had to make a good many trips before the Intermediate Birthday Party was really over; but the last load was finally driven away, jubilant voices sounding back through the dusk after the children had pa.s.sed from sight.

"It was just lovely, from beginning to end," breathed Leonora.

Ilga Barron was quite forgotten.

CHAPTER IX

THE EIGHTH ROSE

On the morning after the party Polly was early downstairs.

Breakfast not being quite ready, she filled up the time by giving fresh water to her birthday roses.

"You are going to the hospital to-day," she told them, as she clipped the ends of the stems and broke off two or three great thorns. "That is, most of you," she amended. "Let me see, you, and you, and you,"

she decided, laying aside three big beauties. Their number was doubled, and then she hesitated.

"Mother, you wouldn't keep more than three, would you?"

Mrs. Dudley looked up from the grapefruit she was cutting.

"That is a good number to look at," she smiled.

"So I think," Polly agreed; "but they can have only one apiece over at the hospital. One alone is pretty, though," she mused. "I'd leave only one for us, but if Leonora should come, she might be afraid I didn't care for them. No, I think eight will have to do, and it will be better to give to those that have to lie abed, won't it?"

Only waiting for her mother's approval, she went on:--

"There's Reva and Ottoine and Mary up in the children's ward, and old Mrs. Zieminski, and that funny little Magdalene, and Gustav and Miss Butler--that makes seven," counting them slowly on her fingers. "I don't know who I will give the eighth to--there are plenty of folks, only I'm not acquainted with them. Never mind, anybody'll be glad of one of these lovelicious roses, and I'll see when I get there."